Only The Strongest
by Sovereign1598
Summary: A 14-year-old from District 4 is chosen to be one of the 24 children fighting to death in the Fourth Quarter Quell. The twist this year? There all Careers. Will young Julian Throne be able to survive this dangerous and bloody games and emerge as a Victor? Or will he fall like so many others?
1. HUNGER FOR BLOOD

_**AN: Okay, here goes everyone! This is the start of my story with my OC! Please read&review!**_

**_P.S I also deleted the first chapter to avoid breaking FFnet rules and attracting the attention of certain groups_**

The Capitol audience burst into thunderous applause as the lean figure of President Nero strode onto the marble stage wearing a long white overcoat.

The cameras flashed as he reached the podium and stepped on, lifting his hand and waving it, signalling to the crowd to quite down.

To the Capitol, Nero stood as the pinnacle of male beauty, and it was well known that he had only the best stylists working on perfecting his body. His skin was as smooth as a baby's and did not carry even a speck of dirt or the slightest spot, it was even polished by an unnatural chemical to gleam whenever illuminated by light. His hair was neatly combed to the side, his fringe tinted slightly to resemble a deep blue but naturally was jet black. One of the other most ridiculous but spectacular features was his bright crimson lips, not seen on a President since the days of Snow.

Once the raucous chatter of the Capitol had died down, he opened his mouth and began to speak:

"Ladies and Gentleman, tonight is a very special evening. On this day we mark not only the Fourth Quarter Quell but a century since the Hunger Games began and the violent and unnecessary conflict known as the Dark Days ended. The Dark Days was, for all those who don't know, a unsuccesful rebellion against the Capitol, in which all 13 districts rebelled and fought against our rule. The suffering of both sides was only ended when the Capitol successfully destroyed District 13 and reclaimed Panem. To mark the anniversary of this terrible time, each year one boy and one girl from each District will enter the Hunger Games, there they will fight to the death until only one tribute remains, who is crowned the victor."

He took a break before continuing taking a glance at the audience to make sure they were following his every word, " Of course, the Games have continued to go on throughout Panem, but every 25 years, the Quarter Quell arrives. These unique Games offer a daring twist to the usual way the Games are played. In the 25th Hunger Games, the citizens of each district had to vote on who would compete for glory in the Games that year. In the Second Quarter Quell, four tributes were chosen from each district instead of the usual two to remind the rebels that for each Capitol citizen killed, two rebels died. This meant that double the amount of tributes entered that year. Finally, the latest Quarter Quell to take place, the twist was that past victors were reaped into the Hunger Games, this was a reminder to the Districts that even the strongest among them couldn't overcome the power of the Capitol. And now to finish of the evening, I will unveil the twist for the Fourth Quarter Quell!"

The audience jeered and squirmed with excitement as Nero's pale and shining hands reached into the box of cards outlining every sick and depraved Quarter Quell theme established a century ago designed to trigger even more fear and panic then the usual reaping in the hearts of each of the 12 Districts when two of their young are forced to face the Arena and yet you couldn't help but notice the wide and icy crimson grim that crept across the president's face; seamlessly cracking the stoic and empty expression that he perfected so well.

Nero pulled out the card marked in bold letters '4' and beckoned through the microphone what he read: "_**To remind the rebels that even those rebels that had worked their hardest and fought together to destroy the Capitol could not escape it's power, eight Tributes will be reaped from the three Career Districts."**_

Nero's face broke into a grin stretching so long that it was nearly impossible to fit on his slim face . This was too perfect, what best to show the Districts who was in control then forcing the strongest among them to fight and leave only one surviving. Although this led to the unfortunate matter of dealing with the other nine Districts who wouldn't be taken part in the Games...

Either way this was going to be the best and most exhilarating games yet…

_**AN: Excited? I sure am! Review please, and as this was the Prologue it was quite short but don't you worry, I will make sure the other chapters will be longer... **_


	2. INTO THE ARENA

_**AN: Welcome everyone! I decided to re-write the parts I did and my whole story by instead focusing on one character rather than switching perspectives! But big thanks to Just-Your-Ordinary-Author for submitting her own incredibly detailed and interesting tributes to the story: Nickel Goldstone, Chantilly Windsor, Jerome Neptune and Irene Clearwater! I also believe she is writing her own SYOT at the moment, and I'm sure she would appreciate if you send some tributes in! Also, I want to say a thank you to The Copy Editor's Copy Editor for helping me improve my writing!**_

_**Anyway…**_

**Welcome to a future where Katniss won the Hunger Games alone and led a normal existence as a victor back in District Twelve. Now, 25 years into the future, the Capitol still holds a tyrannical rule over Panem. The Hunger Games roar more dangerously than ever - still a terrifying reminder of the Capitol's hunger for blood.**

**1: INTO THE ARENA**

Hot searing light beat down at Julian Throne as he ascended into the arena from the dimly lit waiting room below. The orange glow from the sun enveloped him as he stood there, illuminating his intense chocolate brown hair which was messily combed to the side and his well-built frame. He swallowed nervously as his deep green eyes, common to most people in District Four, surveyed what arena the Gamesmakers had crafted this time. A glistening blue lake extended out in a circular fashion , splattered with various sized islands. The expanse of water only ended when it met a small golden beach overshadowed by white rocky cliffs. Julian, the Cornucopia and the other tributes stood on a small rolling green island that fell into the lake below, the middle of the scenic landscape.

Julian had an inkling of why this arena had been constructed for the Fourth Quarter Quell. It was reasonably small, compact and designed to keep each tribute in close proximity, to further the bloodshed wrought.

Forty… Thirty-five…Thirty…

Casting his gaze away from the entrancing lake, he concentrated on inspecting the supplies around the Cornucopia. As he expected, the Gamesmakers obviously had been in a violent mood, as they'd filled the place with an unbelievable arsenal. Weapons of all kinds were placed at various intervals around the golden horn - ranging from simple swords, to lethal-looking spears and impossibly sharp knives. However, several bag packs lay about, probably containing supplies other than food and drink, as the arena seemed to be brimming with these things. Of course, the Gamesmakers wouldn't want the tributes dying of starvation or thirst in the most exciting Quarter Quell yet? Would they now?

Something caught his attention just twenty yards away from his pedestal. A gleaming silver sheath of throwing knives, his favourite weapon. Although he had trained for the Games like many other children of his age, he never enjoyed it and had despised the Games since he was old enough to understand what was really happening. Despite this, he had a natural talent for throwing and in order to return home he would need those knives.

Twenty…Fifteen…

But his mentor, Finnick, had told him to escape from the bloodbath as soon as it began. He was right of course, he would deal with getting a weapon when the time came. It was so tempting though…

Maybe he could make it, he was fast. Probably faster than most of the other Careers here. Yes, that was what he would do. He could grab those knives and get away from the Cornucopia before the killing even began…

_Ten…Five… "Let the 100__th__ Hunger Games begin! And may the odds ever be in your favour!"_

As soon as the gong sounded, he ran as fast as he could. But before he could even get four steps in front of him, he was grabbed by the neck and tossed to the ground.

The bulky and muscular form of Nickel from District One was upon him before he had the chance to fight back. Nickel's face was contorted in a demonic smile as he grabbed Julian's wrists to restrain him. Nickel's jet black hair was spiked up as his ice cold eyes pierced him, as if eyeing Julian for a meal. Acting now on pure adrenaline, Julian managed to wriggled his right hand free and grasped the nearest thing near him, a sharp stone. He bashed the rock against Nickel's face who screamed in agony as it scraped across his most prominent feature, a long scar running down from his eyebrow to his cheekbone.

Before the crazy Career could recover, Julian scrambled to his feet and used as much energy he could muster to sprint to the sheath of knives. Just as he was about to make a run for it, a girl who he could not recognize appeared out of nowhere with a wicked looking blade. It was clear after her first swing however that sword fighting wasn't one of her talents as Julian easily dodged her manoeuvres Reaching into the sheath he pulled out one of his knives ready to defend himself if she swung again, but there was no need to as he caught sight of Hadrian from District Two's colossal form behind her carrying a halberd with a wickedly curved blade. Even though the girl had almost killed him Julian cried out to warn her, but it was already too late; he only had time to roll straight out of the way of the grisly scene about to unfold. Hadrian unloaded the weapon's impressive power onto the girl. The Career from District Two blasted the axe head of the weapon through her back, driving her down with a spray of crimson blood. The poor girl screamed and pleaded for her live, but Hadrian offered her no such mercy. He swung the weapon around and speared the girl on the curved blood of the pole arm. A puddle of blood grew, staining the ground…already the Capitol had taken a life. Not wanting to meet the same fate, Julian dove up from the ground.

However, he was caught off-guard once again as Nickel came barreling towards him like an angry bull, determined to murder Julian for adding a fresh scar to his already ruined face. Dodging to the side to, he pulled out a knife and threw it wildly at the Career's head, narrowly missing by a slight margin and instead lodging itself into the ground beside him. With no time to recover the weapon, Julian turned and ran like a champion sprinter to the edge of the island forcing his legs to do more than they were capable off. As he reached the cliff and was about to plunge into the clear water below, the same knife that he had just lost came spiraling towards him...

_**AN: Excited? If there wasn't enough action where there should have been or it was too short for an opening to the arena. I apologize! But anyway I hoped you enjoyed it and please remember to review!**_


	3. A CLOSE ENCOUNTER

_**AN: So Julian has escaped certain death at the Cornucopia, but how will he fare now?**_

**3: A CLOSE ENCOUNTER**

Julian gritted his teeth and wrenched the knife from his skin. As it turned out, Nickel wasn't the best thrower around; as the silver blade had only ended up impacting his calf, but it still hurt like hell.

Fresh blood poured from the wound as he crawled away from the sand and into the cover of the pine trees. Julian had tried to move as far as he could away from the Cornucopia, but had been unable to swim with his leg in so much agony and had so moved towards the nearest piece of land, a large island about 50 meters away from the center of the arena. The dense foliage there offered him a valuable hiding spot from other tributes and a temporary camp until his leg healed.

Looking for something to pressurize the wound, Julian found nothing to stop the flow of blood. While the other tributes had concentrated on the weapon stations at the training center in the Capitol, Julian had instead spent most of his time learning survival techniques. There one of the instructors had said that the best thing to stop the loss of blood was to use something as a temporary tourniquet. He threw of his shirt, exposing his rock hard abs beneath; crafted by years of time at the academy. Tearing it into pieces, he tied it around his leg and knotted it above the deep cut.

Even with hastily built tourniquet, however, he would still have trouble walking around and needed a safe place to low lie until his sponsors could send him a real bandage. As soon as that thought entered his mind however, he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle. Finnick might have the charm and the looks, but Julian doubted he would be able to convince a wealthy Capitol citizen to sponsor him. They would be pooling all their money for someone like Hadrian.

Deciding that he would move soon to find a place to rest his head, Julian opened the sheath of knives that he had fought so hard to acquire. He counted ten knives inside, not to mention the one that had hit his leg. Speaking of which, he grabbed the blade with his hand and used a spare piece of shirt to wipe it clean before depositing it into the sheath with the others. Throwing the scabbard over his shoulders, he attempted to stand up slowly, carefully making sure he didn't strain his injured leg. Once he was up, he cast a wary look around. This was prime ambush territory.

Seeing no obvious signs of being watched or followed, Julian limped into the wilderness.

After travelling for over three hours, Julian was weary and night had fallen over much of the arena. His leg ached from over exertion and the wound had reopened several times already. Time to find somewhere to sleep.

His deep green eyes settled on a very small clearing hid by vegetation and the shadow of the pine trees. This was a suitable place to lie low for his first night. He dumped his sheath on the ground and lied down as comfortably as he could with a damaged leg, Julian made sure that his body could not be seen through the tall grass and plants before settling into a restless and uneasy sleep.  
-

A few hours later he was awakened by the blaring anthem of the Capitol that signalled the kill count for earlier that day. Julian wasn't really worried at waking; he had had several disturbing dreams all in which involved him dying an unpleasant death. He turned his gaze to the night sky, lit up only by the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. Then they appeared, the faces of the dead. Seven of them. A boy and two girl's from District 2, a girl from his own district who's name he had forgotten, and two boys and a girl from District 1. It was a surprising number for the first day of the Games, usually over eight tributes were killed in the bloodbath - and many more were expected in a Games made solely made up of Careers. He doubted the number of deaths would keep the Capitol happy for another day, but might of have been enough to stop the Gamesmakers unleashing a rampaging mutt.

Suddenly, Julian stiffened when he heard the unmistakable sound of running footsteps moving in his direction; he slowly turned his head and looked as a tall red-haired boy burst into the clearing. The lanky boy looked like he had just run a marathon, his freckled face was beaded with droplets of sweat and he was bent over breathless. Luckily, Julian had had enough sense to camouflage himself, in order to remain hidden and so the boy didn't take a second look at where he was lurking.

His heart quickened as Julian heard more scuffling of feet. Just then, Nickel's eerie form burst though the trees. He was quickly followed by two companions, Hadrian and a slim and toned blonde female who looked like she had been training her whole life for this moment. All three brandished weapons at the helpless boy. Nickel carried a rapier that looked like it could cut through skin, bone and muscle in one swipe, Hadrian held the large halberd effortlessly; it's blade still stained with the dried blood of the girl from earlier. The blond girl carried an equally deadly weapon, a long spear with a nasty protruding tip.

They circled the boy like vultures, cutting off any method of escape as the boy stood there, tears now mingling with the sweat rolling down his cheeks as he pleaded with the Careers to let him go. If only there was a way for Julian to help the boy without jeopardising his own safety.

The boy made a futile attempt to escape his killers but before he could even move his feet the spear pierced straight through his chest and embedded itself in the ground beneath his shoes, gallons of sickly blood pouring from the gaping hole in his chest. Unbelievably, the red-haired boy was still alive, guttering moans escaping from his throat before being replaced with even more of the sickly liquid. The girl jogged over in a blink of an eye and wrenched the spear out, hovering the spear tip straight over his dying heart before plunging it in, silencing him forever. The thunderous noise of the cannon boomed through the woods and Julian had the chance to vomit quietly, unleashing the breakfast he had eaten before he had entered the arena.

Fortunately, the trio of tributes had not heard him and were now busy arguing with each other in a heated debate.

"You cow Chantilly, he was mine!"

"Shut your mouth Nickel before I rip your jaw from your UGLY face!"

Nickel trembled with pent up anger at the remark and threw himself at Chantilly. However before he could cut open her throat, Hadrian stepped in front of him and grabbed his wrist. Nickel shouted out in frustration, but Hadrian kept still and calm. Unfazed by Nickel's threats and shouts.

"I suggest you go back to camp now and stay with the others! Me and Chantilly will carry on from here!"

Nickel once again tried to protest, but Hadrian remained firm. Giving up, Nickel cast one long hated look at Chantilly before turning around and jogging into the darkness. Chantilly smiled as he disappeared…

"Don't wind him up! We need him!" said Hadrian in a harsh voice, clearly unhappy with both of their actions.

"I'm only playing, he's just bad-tempered!"

"Well don't! And come on, let's find some others before morning."

Julian remained still and quiet for ten minutes until he was sure they were gone. It had looked like the strongest careers had formed their own alliance. It was obvious Hadrian was in control, but with the likes of Nickel and Chantilly in the group, it would be only a matter of time before it broke apart.

_**AN: How did you like it? Enough to satisfy you? Review please!**_


	4. FIRST BLOOD

_**AN: You got blood, blood and now you've got even more blood! Please review, praise and positive criticism will help my writing improve and continue the story!**_

_**Sorry for the long wait for this chapter and the third! Fanfiction decided not to let me upload chapters for a bit, and even now I'm using the Copy'n'Paste technique! Anyway, please read&review!**_

**4: FIRST BLOOD**

Julian had had little sleep after witnessing the Careers murder the lanky copper-haired boy, replaying the event in his head over and over again. The boy's pleading. The spear punctuating his body. The whimpers he let out. The disgust Julian had felt when Nickel had burst into a fit because he had not done the deed himself.

Julian ventured up from his spot, wary of his surroundings. Expecting any moment to see Nickel or Hadrian or Chantilly burst through the trees. As he moved, his leg still ached from the wound the knife had inflicted the day before, luckily his shirt had stopped him from losing anymore of the precious red bodily liquid, even at the expense of exposing his upper body to the elements.

His stomach grumbled and he placed his arm over his bellybutton, his he hadn't eaten a meal since yesterday morning and his body was already noticing the absence of food. Deciding his first port of call was to eat, Julian ventured towards the direction of the island's small beach and the lake. Fish would certainly be found underneath it's waves.

For his own protection and to gather fish, Julian reached his hand into his sheath that was placed to the ground next to him and pulled out one of the silver blades. Convincing himself that he would be fine, he casually moved towards the beach through the trees.

The beach was small and luscious; a holidaymaker's paradise. To Julian, it was his only chance of food as the island had offered nothing whatsoever in that liking. No exotic fruit hung from it's trees, and whatever animals did make it their home they were very quiet.

As the soft and cold waves washed over his feet and toes, Julian desired nothing better then to dive into the blue water. Oh how he longed to visit the seas around District Four again, the only place he felt comfortable and safe. He was glad the Gamesmakers had made this arena He knew however that this entrancing water was a death trap, a number of deadly aquatic mutts engineered by the Gamesmakers probably lurked beneath it's inviting surface. Waiting for the right moment to sink it's teeth into an un-expecting tribute.

Julian shivered as disturbing images flashed in his mind. Sure, there were plenty of dangerous sea-life in the oceans at home, but they were timid and rarely attacked the residents of District Four as they went about their daily fishing. But whatever waited beneath gave him the creeps.

He had no choice, if he didn't want to starve then he would have to place his hands in the water. There, just a little to his right swam a darting olive fish that he recognized as a member of the freshwater species, whitefish. It was a lengthy size and would probably last him for the rest of the day if he eat it sparingly. Julian had no trouble grasping it in his hands and stabbing the small knife into it's scaled side. To absorbed on his handy-work, Julian failed to notice the movement behind him

The knifes reflection flashed in the water below, and Julian had only a split-second to dive into the water before the blade stabbed the air where his head was only a second ago. Losing both his catch and the knife, Julian was now utterly defenceless against the girl from District Two, Maroon was her name. Water splashed around him as he desperately dodged each of her thrusts like they were dancing a lethal walktz, but the water slowed him down. Driving on only with adrenaline and instinct, Julian let loose an elbow that knocked the long knife from her grasp, the waves carrying the knife away from the fight and back onto the shore. Without her weapom, Maroon stood gasping as Julian's body over took his mind. He pushed Maroon over and snatched up her long brown hair, pulling it as he pushed her head into the water. She struggled wildly as her lungs desperately clung to the air she had left.

She stiffened and Julian relaxed his tight grasp, which he soon realised was a mistake and she swung an uppercut with her fist at his face. He was drove backwards as her clenched hand connected with his chin, landing in the golden sand.

Maroon snatched the daunting knive from the sand to their right, about to plunge the blade straight into his head. However, she was still trying to catch her breath from nearly drowning and Julian used this to his advantage, kicking her in the chest and driving the girl away from him.

The next through minutes were a blur. Before Julian had time to think about the consequence of his actions, he grabbed the knife and drove it through the girl's neck. Shocked at his actions, Julian fell to his knees.

He had killed someone. Killed. Maroon's lifeless eyes stared back at him with hatred and accusations. She would never see her family again. Her family only seeing her behind the coarse frame of a wooden coffin. This was his actions. His fault. Julian only wished he could turn back the clock. But it was too late, the girl's body and the booming sound of the cannon evidence of that.

After a few minutes, a Capitol hovercraft appeared in the air above the. It shot a snaring metal drone to pick up Maroon's body. Just like that, the Capitol had taken the body. The husk of someone he had killed. He would never forget this moment.

Coming back to his senses but still numb with guilt, Julian swiftly returned back to the palm tree forest. He hoped that the Careers hadn't seen or heard the commotion at the beach. That would be just his luck. Or the will of a divine spirit determined to wreck the same fate he had inflicted on Maroon.

_**AN: Yeah, I know it was short…But I always find quality is better than quantity! Of course, If this chapter is a load of rubbish, then I apologise and eat my words!**_


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